A Sticky Situation
by itsmetegan
Summary: A short drarry one-shot; Harry and Draco get stuck in the guest entrance of the Ministry of Magic. In that tight space, tempers may boil, but Draco makes a genuine attempt at crossing the bridge to friendship.


The Early morning sun cast long shadows along the sleepy city blocks of London. Harry was on his way to the Ministry, upon the request of Mr. Weasley. Setting a calm pace, he crossed street after street until he finally rounded the corner and came face to-...well... glass, with the fire-engine red telephone booth, or known to the Wizarding World as the Guest Entrance to the Ministry of Magic. But, to his displeasure, another wizard was standing at the booth, paused in his reach for the booth's door handle. Another wizard with a pointed face, framed by sleek blonde hair, porcelain skin and pale blue eyes.

"Malfoy." Harry said in a clipped voice.

"Potter." Draco replied shortly

. "What are you doing here?" The brunett spoke apprehensively.

"I don't see how that's any of your buisness, Potter, but if you're really that interested, I'm going to see my father for a bit. He wants me to see how the innerworkings of the Ministry operate, since I'm undoubletly going to get some desk job one day." Malfoy sighed.

"Oh."

An awkward silence spread between the two rivals until Harry spoke once more.

"Well, let's go down then." He said, motioning to the seeminly out-of-order booth before them.

Malfoy just stood there for a moment, "Why would I want to go down with you?"

Harry, ignorng the innuendo, continued on. "Okay, then I'll go and you can wait." He said, taking a step forward, reaching for the tiny silver pull.

"Fine." Draco sighed again, this time with an impatient air.

Harry pulled the glass door open, allowing Draco to step in beofre himself. After pressing 62442 into the key pad, a cool femal voice filled the small space.

"Please state your name and buisness."

"Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, visitors."

With a _clunk _of machinery, two gleaming metal badges slid out of the coin chute. Harry handed Draco the one that bore his name, then pinned his own to his T-shirt. The cramped booth jolted to life and began sliding down, underground to the Atrium. The London scenery disappeared above them, but as soon as it did, the booth shuddered to a halt.

"W-what's going on?" Draco said.

"Search me." Harry said, looking around, though it wasn't much use seeing as there were surrounded by earth.

"Ow, Malfoy, stop moving around." Harry said as Draco trod on his foot.

"Well, I can't bloody see anything."

"Stay still, I'm going to try and get it moving again." But Harry just stood there. What kind of spell would get a telephone booth moving again? Even still, would it work? Harry was sure that any attempt of magic on the booth might end up getting them both hurt, and the last thing he wanted was for the Ministry to think that they were trying to force entry through the guest entrance...

"Well..." Malfoy prompted, "Did it work?"

"I havn't done anything yet."

"Get on with it then."

"I can't."

"What do you mean 'you can't'? You're a wizard, arn't you?"

"Yes, but, what if this is rigged to jinx you if you use magic on it? I wouldn't out it past the Ministry to curse someone who tries to force their way in." Harry sighed and ran a fustrated hand through his hair.

"So... so we're stuck?"

"Looks like it."

"But my father is waiting for me! Malfoys are never late."

"Not much we can do about it right now, Malfoy." He heard the impatient blonde huff and sit down, and Harry followed suit. A long silence streched between them, broken only by the occasional rumble of a car overhead.

"Do you think someone will find us?"

"Well, I supposed they'll have to start wondering where we are eventually."

Draco sighed again and Harry leaned his head back against the cool glass, his temple giving a slight throb. This was the last way he had wanted to spend his morning; trapped in a phone booth with Draco Malfoy, the boy who hated him.

Why did Malfoy hate him so much?

"Hey, Malfoy, why do you hate Ron, Hermione and I so much?"

"What kind of question is that, Potter?"

"I dunno, not much else going on right now and I figured I have the right to know why you're so bent on screwing with me and my friends."

Harry heard Malfoy scoff, "Potter, I'm not bent for anything that has to do with you, and I wouldn't enjoy 'screwing' with you, that Weasel or Granger."

"You know what I mean, Malfoy."

The other side of the booth was quiet.

"Really? You're not going to answer? How old are we, Malfoy? "

"Shut it Potter, I don't have to tell you a bloody thing."

"Well, alright then." Harry closed his eyes and tilted his head back once more; this was not going well.

"Why do care if I hate you?" Draco piped up, suddenly.

"Well, wouldn't you want to know what you did to someone if they were so set on making you miserable?"

Draco was quiet again, then spoke, " I make you miserable?"

Harry sat there, taken quite aback by the sudden concern in Malfoy's voice. "Well, yeah, I mean, most of the time... You're bearable right now, though."

Harry heard Draco shift, but he said nothing.

A long silence stretched, and Harry's mind wandered to Quidditch, but Draco was still doting on Harry's words.

_Do I really hurt him that much?_

He shook his head, why should he care? What had Harry ever done for him? But he still couldn't shake that nagging guilt. 

More time passed, though neither boy was sure how much.

Draco shifted again, his long legs stretching out before him, and in turn, brushed against Harry, yet not one of them made any intention of moving.

"Isn't there anything we can do to get out of here?" The silver-haired boy huffed.

The ravenett thought for a moment before speaking, "We could try banging..."

Malfoy's eyes went wide as he nearly choked on his breath, "W-what?"

Harry, realizing his mistake, spoke again, "Er, on the floor... So someone might hear us and notice something's off." he amended.

"Oh... Eh, yeah. I suppose we could try." Draco got to his knees and bent over, glad that Harry couldn't see him blushing furiously, and began pounding his fists on the cool metal floor of the machine.

Harry did the same, beating his open palms against the ground, yelling for help to the ignorant room below.

After several noisy minutes, the boys sat back once more, sighing. "That worked well." Draco said with sarcasm dripping from his words.

"Well I don't see you coming up with some brilliant plan, Malfoy, so shut it." Harry said in a venomous tone. He rested his head in his hands, attempting to rid himself of the headache that had formed from the noisemaking. Or Draco. He wasn't too sure which one had caused the unpleasant throb.

"Right. Sorry." Draco replied, his last word trailing off in a whisper.

Harry exhaled, "It's fine. I'm just a bit frustrated."

More time passed, and still the two opposers were unsure as to how long they had been caged. Through the silence, Malfoy coud just make out the tiny huff of Harry's breathing.

_Do I really make him _that_ miserable?_

Draco shook his head, why should he care? Potter strutted around, acting like he owned the place. He needed someone to deflate his ego every once in a while. But Draco certainly hadn't meant to make him _miserable..._

_Should I...apologize... or something?_

Before he could argue himself, the blonde opened his mouth and began, "Hey, Harry, I'm... er... I'm sorry for making you and your friends so miserable."

Harry was quiet for so long that Draco began to think Harry had been asleep, but the Gryffindor finally spoke up. "That was sudden, Malfoy... but thank you, I suppose."

Draco cleared his throat in response, unsure of what to say.

Harry had accepted his apology, he thought with a slight smile. Images flashed through his head, he and Harry smiling at each other, he and Harry riding a broom, he and harry kissing...

Draco blinked away the pictured.

_We just made up, if you could even call it that._

There was no possible way that they could ever have... something. Something other than mutual tolerance, anyway.

_But it would be nice if..._

"No." Draco said audibly.

"Er, what?" He heard a voice from accross him and started.

"Er, I was, eh... I was just thinking if- um." He stuttered and broke off.

"What's gotten into you, Malfoy?" Harry said quzzically.

"N-noth-" Draco was interrupted by the return of a cool female voice and a shudder and jolt of machinery.

"We are sorry for the inconvienience, and appreciate your cooperation."

"Finally." Harry rose to his feet and extended a hand to help the Slytherin stand.

"Thanks Pott- er, Harry." Draco said as he rose, brushing off his trousers.

Harry nodded as the door slid open, revealing the sights and sounds of the bustling chamber.

"Eh, bye." Harry spoke to Draco, and with a small nod, each of the no-longer-rivals departed. Draco gazed up at the illuminated ceiling as his shoes echoed down the corridor.

He had apologized.

And Harry had accepted it. Draco smiled despite himself.

_It was a start._


End file.
